A struggle with sanity
by A. Odessa
Summary: AU. Rated M for later chapters. Sylar tries to stop thinking about the cheerleader, but sanity is not an easy thing to obtain.
1. Chapter 1

With nothing to do, Claire slid her hands in between the couch cushions, looking for the changer. Then she heard the familiar voice.

"Hello, Claire."

Claire involuntarily snapped straight up and stiffened, bound by Sylar's mental restraints.

"Just thought I'd drop by to pay you a little visit."

He walked toward her with precision, each step more menacing than the last.

"Mm, Claire…your heart is racing." A devilish grin slid across his face. "Is that because your scared…or excited?"

Claire fought against her invisible restraints, teeth clenched, red in the face, dangling there in the middle of her living room, more familiar with this situation than she'd like to be.

"I can't help it Claire. There's just something about you. I can't quite put my finger on it though. My hunger for you…it's insatiable." His grin fell to a scowl as he paused, staring at Claire. He breathed in. "I thought…after I had your power, it would go away, but…it's only worse now… I can't stand the obsession any longer." His eyes darted down as he began to breath heavier, losing his control. "It's too much."

Claire sensed a vulnerability in Sylar she had never detected before-and this scared her more than anything. If he could tear people apart when he had it together, what would he be capable of uncontrolled?

"All I do now is think of you. You're always there, in my mind, like a parasite. I just-" He released a deep growl of frustration, making Claire flinch. Sylar's brow furrowed as his fists clenched and just when Claire thought she might have a chance to make a break for it, Sylar's eyes flashed open, staring straight into Claire's, piercing through her.

"I'm not going to suffer anymore."

Sylar's finger drew a vertical line in the air, slicing through Claire's shirt.

Claire gasped. "No!"

The two halves of her shirt fell open, revealing her belly and a pink bra.

"Oh, how sweet. Ever the innocent."

Almost instantly Sylar was next to her. She could feel his breath, hot on her cheek.

"Oh, Claire."

He lifted his hand to the bare flesh of her stomach but stopped just before he touched her. He let it linger there for a moment, hovering just above the surface as they breathed heavy. His hand started traveling upward, slowly, carefully, over her breast, past her collarbone, and then stopped, right over her throat. Claire felt Sylar's fingers tighten and he gritted his teeth. Claire let out a breathy squeak and her eyes opened wide with terror. She knew he could snap her neck in a second if he wanted to, but instead he let the moment drag on, squeezing tighter and tighter but never enough to off her. All of sudden, Sylar pulled his hand away, scratching her neck. Claire stood there, tense, motionless, as Sylar marched away, throwing a desk across the room.

"I'm supposed to be strong- powerful. I can lift objects 100 times my size without even touching them, and-" Sylar grabbed a glass from the kitchen table and walked toward Claire, holding out in front of him for her to see. "I can melt this, freeze it, shatter it, and make it **explode**!" His voice strained as he mutated the form of the glass. The deformed glass exploded, making Claire flinch, but the particles remained suspended in the air in front of her face, then fell to the floor like dust. Claire noticed Sylar getting more frantic, pacing back and forth. Sylar continued.

"I can heal from any injury, I can tell when your lying, hear your heartbeat from miles away." With this, he thrust his hand on Claire's chest and looked intently into her eyes. Sylar's voice quieted. "I can have any power in the world- but I can't make this go away."

Both their breaths were sharp, Sylar's from his frustration, Claire's from fear.

"Tell me, Claire, why I can't make this go away."

Claire could hear a certain desperation in his voice. Sylar's hands held her shoulders. The silent moment seemed to last forever until suddenly, Sylar pulled Claire into him and their lips hit. Before Claire could absorb what was happening, she felt herself flying across the room and then slam against the wall, breaking three ribs and fracturing her skull. She fell to the ground with a thud. As she felt the familiar anatomical resemblance, she heard the slam of a door, and when she looked up, Sylar was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Had he kissed her?

Maybe his power was just off and he pulled her towards him instead of pushing her away. And somehow, by some strange act of God not involving the active will of any party involved, their lips met, you know, because his power fritzed.

It did feel an awful lot like a kiss, though.

Claire sat there on the couch, just like the last time Sylar broke in, only this time she wasn't so numb. Her mind was swimming with thoughts, theories, explanations. This time she was flooded with emotions, most of all confusion. On top of it all, she has no idea how she would explain this to her mom.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Weeks went by and Claire's incident with Sylar felt like some vague and distant memory to her now. After she managed to convince her mom the huge dent in the wall was the result of reckless and clumsy dancing, her life returned to normal, or at least as normal as it was before.

Since Claire was officially a drop-out, she had spent that first week pacing the house while her mom and brother were away, trying not to think of Sylar. Eventually, the details she played over and over in her mind began to blend together and fade until, finally, she could perform simple tasks without looking over her shoulder or flinching at every little noise.

Today she decided she'd sit back and relax, maybe watch a little T.V. Claire hopped onto the couch and started flipping through the channels.

"-the man was described as being abrasive and-"

"-Bitch! He's _my _man, don't you be-"

"-I love you so much, Beth, but….-"

"-That's the point, you're supposed to be tempted into shaving.

You're face looks like Robin William's knuckles.

Hahaha…"

She settled on some popular romance comedy that was just starting and slipped into the comfort of the couch. As the movie played, Claire wondered what it would be like to just live a normal life, worrying only about school and boys and what college she would get into. Her mind wandered and she stared off into space, absorbed in her own little world until her focus drifted back to the film and she realized the characters were two pieces of clothing away from a sex scene. A warm tingling sensation rushed through her belly. The characters onscreen began to grind into each other, and Claire could feel her body getting hot. She sighed with relief.

"Finally."

Claire squirmed down the couch so she was lying down, happy she was finally in the mood again. After weeks of trying to "blow of steam" and getting nowhere, she was ready for a good orgasm. She slid her hand under the elastic waistband of her sweatpants and started rubbing, slowly, eager to build up to the perfect release. She started rubbing faster and harder, but this ruined the momentum and she knew she would lose her chance to come if she didn't do this right. With her stress levels being about 10x those of a normal person, she rarely ever got the chance to enjoy herself like this. Images flashed through her mind as Claire tried to think of anything that could help get her over the edge.

_Sex. Cock. Fucking. That cute guy from the video store…Fucking the guy from the video store. He slides his hand over your body and down to your…Ooooh…mm…Johnny Depp-Sex-Cute guy from the video store-Sylar-_

Claire stopped and opened her eyes.

"What?"

She pulled her hand out form her pants and sat up. Why would she think of Sylar?

_I must still be stressed out about it. Nothing more than subconscious stress._

Claire looked uneasy, but decided to lean back and start again. She tried hard to think of something normal, like normal girls do, but again her mind shot to an image of Sylar, right there in front of her, breathing heavy. She was almost there and didn't want to stop so she let her mind do what it wanted. She was so immersed in her own pleasure she didn't care. Flashes of Sylar went through her mind, his hand hovering up her body, and she kept rubbing, faster and faster, Sylar's hand on her throat, his warm breath on her face, faster and faster, that kiss-

"Oooooh…Oh my god"

She tensed, shook, moaning, then laid there on the couch, panting, fist still clenched around the edge of the sofa cushion. After a few moments, Claire opened her eyes and got up to go to the bathroom, legs weak from the power of her orgasm. She walked awkwardly through the door and sat down on the toilet, allowing her mind to piece together the reality of the situation. Then it sunk it.

_Fuck._


	3. Chapter 3

"Danko."

Claire stood opposite him in the doorway, hand clutching tight around the handle.

"Nice to see you too, Claire."

The sarcasm only made her hateful stare worse..

"You're not going to let me in?"

Claire pursed her lips and stared him down for a moment, then stepped to the side. He walked into the house.

"What do you want?" Each word had a cutting bite to them.

Danko glanced around the house, taking it all in, and said, oh so casually…

"I'm looking for Sylar."

He turned to Claire.

"You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?" Claire could see through the innocent façade.

"No. I don't. Why?"

"Are you sure you haven't seen him, haven't caught him sneaking around town, maybe peaking through your bedroom window…no mentions of severed skull caps in the local newspaper-"

"No. Nothing."

Danko was, at this point, getting annoyed.

"I've tracked Sylar to this location and seeing as how there's only one person in this area that he'd be remotely interested in-"

"I don't know what to tell you, Danko, I haven't seen him. I can't help you."

Danko was now thoroughly pissed off.

"I know you know something Claire, and if you end up a bloody brainless sack of organs, it'll be your own fault. I tried helping you. Why are you trying to protect that psychopath?"

_What?_

"What are you keeping from me?"

_Protecting him?_

"I think you need to leave."

Danko and Claire stood there, feet apart, trying to stare each other down. Danko broke first.

"Fine. Do what you want."

He stepped around her, each step calculated, waiting desperately for her to break. He paused at the door, still hopeful, but when he realized she wasn't going to say anything, he swung the door open violently and slammed it on his way out.

Claire stood there in the middle of her living room, seething. She felt strangely triumphant. Then Danko's words began to replay themselves in her head.

_A bloody brainless sack of organs_

_Why are you trying to protect that psychopath?_

_What are you keeping from me?_

Why _didn't _she tell Danko about her little encounter with Sylar? _Was _she protecting him? No, of course not. Plus, the enemy of your enemy is your friend.

_What?_

No, no, they're all enemies, all contemptible people, Danko, Sylar, all of them.

…

Then why the hell was she protecting him?


End file.
